


Fools in love

by Bill_Longbow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Car Crash Victim Bucky, Drunk Sex, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mild Rickrolling, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, smut light, young Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 17:57:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16434122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bill_Longbow/pseuds/Bill_Longbow
Summary: When Bucky quietly confesses one night he's sure no one will ever want him again, not with his ruined arm and his head full of nightmares, Tony jumps at the chance to prove him wrong. Friends with benefits. Everyone benefits, right? It's not like Bucky would ever see Tony as more than just a friend, so this is perfect.Everything is fine.





	Fools in love

**Author's Note:**

> My fill for this prompt the lovely [astharoshebarvon](http://astharoshebarvon.tumblr.com) gave me: 
> 
> Bucky and Tony have a friends with benefits kind of relationship. Bucky went through a very bad break up with his boyfriend and it hurts Tony to see him like that. He’d liked him for a while. They end up sleeping together and come to an arrangement of sorts. 
> 
> Tony is literally like : I’ll take what I can get. He is not going to burden Bucky with his feelings when he is going through such a hard time. Tony is usually sad and he’s virgin too. One day it gets too much and Bucky sort of shouts at Tony. Tony starts crying. Bucky realizes he loves Tony and berates himself for not realizing Tony had always loved him. They are both engineers and enjoy reading a lot. They are in their twenties.
> 
> Look at [the gorgeous moodboards ](http://astharoshebarvon.tumblr.com/post/179513699733/heres-my-art-for-the-winteriron-bang-and-the) they made!
> 
> Thank you to [ Roe ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseandthorns28/pseuds/roseandthorns28) who's an amazing beta and cheerreader!

“God, that was something, doll,” Bucky says with a contented sigh, rolling to his back and taking Tony with him.

“Hmm, sure was, _Buchanan_ ,” Tony replies lazily, resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder and drawing patterns on his chest. It’s a good natured rib, one they’ve been doing for years now, Bucky talking old timey to tease him and Tony calling him Buchanan because of it. He nuzzles Bucky’s skin, but refrains from kissing it, rolling off Bucky instead and stretching once he stands next to the bed. “I’ll go first.” He nods towards the shower and walks away when Bucky waves, reaching for his phone, his attention already on other things than Tony.

He holds in the sigh until he’s in the bathroom and leans his head against the shower door, wincing when the motion jars his sore ass. Every time he’s not sure if he can keep this up, but every time Bucky will smile that one smile at him, or throw an arm over his shoulder and whisper in ear, and he’s sold. Too weak, Howard had been right about that all along. Shaking his head he turns on the water and steps in, hoping the scalding water will wash away his melancholy.

When he emerges from the bathroom Bucky is gone. Not unusual. Sometimes he stays, but their usual easy banter always feels a bit stilted after--. It’s almost better if he doesn’t linger, like today. Then Tony can crawl into the bed, still smelling of Bucky and sex, and pretend it’s his to keep. With a pillow clutched to his stomach he falls into a fitful sleep.

 

~~~~~

 

“And that’s how Bucky ended up sleeping in the tub, naked with nothing but earmuffs,” Steve giggles so hard he’s almost incomprehensible, and they all erupt in laughter. Even Bucky laughs with them and holds up his beer to salute Steve.

Tony can't help but feel proud of his friend, of the progress he has made the last year. Slowly he's crawling back to being the man he was before the accident, and being in the middle of the attention doesn't faze him anymore. There was a time not too long ago where he would only leave his house for the bare necessities, refusing to see anyone but Steve and him. Somehow the two of them managed to talk Bucky into going to see a therapist, one who helped him overcome his PTSD and gently coaxed him into going out and be more social.

When Bucky's gaze meets his they smile at each other. Smiling at Bucky has always been easy, from the moment Tony had switched schools mid term and stepped into class as an awkward, gangly teenager, pushing his glasses in place while he looked for a free chair and Bucky had waved at Tony to come sit with him.

He couldn't help the shy smile then, and he can't help it now, but he covers it by sticking out his tongue. Bucky's answering wink makes Tony blush and he looks down at the ice melting in his drink. Of course his playful gesture would only remind Bucky of the way he blew him yesterday in the parking lot after work. He throws his drink back in one go and taps Nat’s arm to ask her to dance.

Out on the dancefloor he manages to forget for a bit and have genuine fun. Nat is a hoot to dance with, all nimble grace and funny faces, until a familiar body presses up behind Tony. He does his best to enjoy this, turning around and laughing at Bucky, taunting him to dance weird old school dances with them, but it feels off somehow, like he's playing a part now. After another song he excuses himself and goes home early, waving away the concern of his friends and crawling into bed at just after midnight.

 

~~~~~

 

Tony startles when the phone rings. He's chopping onions and trying valiantly not to cry but failing miserably. Means it'll be good sauce though. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and picks up the phone with his clean hand. “Hello?”

Silence on the other end, just some heavy breathing. Tony's half convinced it's a prank call and moves to hang up when suddenly a sob rings over the line. “Hello?” Tony tries again.

The caller sniffles and it's Bucky who whispers “Hey.”

“Bucky? What's going on? Where are you?” Tony holds the phone between his face and shoulder to wash his hands as he shoots off his questions, worry flooding him. Only when he's drying them Bucky answers with a soft chuckle that's more sad than anything else.

“Downtown… I… can you pick me up?” Bucky's voice sounds small and wounded, much like he did right after when that dick-- Tony pushes thoughts about that time to the back of his mind. Getting to Bucky is what’s most important now.

“Of course, tell me where you are,” Tony answers as he puts the onions in a lidded container and hurries over to the hall to pull on his sneakers.

Bucky rambles off the address and Tony jumps into his car, driving too fast to get to Bucky as quick as his beat up Ford will take him. He doesn't know the neighbourhood and has to drive slow to watch the numbers, but finally he sees Bucky sitting on the stairs to a brownstone apartment. He's folded in on himself, face against his knees, pressed against the fence as far as he can. Tony parks the car and hurries over to sit next to him, gently touching his shoulder.

“Hey,” he says lamely, unsure what's going on. Right after the accident Bucky had panic attacks, and later, after that bastard ex had left, he sunk into a depression so bad he refused to leave his bed some days. Tony found both equally hard to deal with.

He hated feeling powerless, unable to do anything for his friend, so when Bucky had confided after many months of therapy he’d like to go back out there, dating, but he couldn't because he felt worthless and ugly, was sure no one would want him anymore, Tony had jumped at the opportunity to show him otherwise. You can't fuck your way out of a panic attack however, and he's at a loss why Bucky would've called him instead of Steve today.

Bucky looks up at the touch and smiles a sad smile. He looks much smaller than usual, brittle around the edges. “Thanks, Tony.” He wipes the long hair out of his face. “Couldn't go on a bus like this,” he adds, shrugging and sitting up straight. Tony doesn't miss the fact that Bucky holds onto the the railing for support.

He stands up and offers a hand to Bucky to help him up. Bucky smiles, more relaxed now, and with a huff he gets up, straightening out his back with a painful wince. “We're not getting any younger, are we?” He smirks, obviously putting a mask back in place, and lets go of Tony's hand to take the few steps down. Tony misses the contact immediately, he would hold Bucky's hand forever if he was allowed, but he mimics Bucky and puts his in his coat pocket.

“You're doing fine for someone from the nineteen twenties,” Tony jokes, but it falls flat and they cross the street in silence.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” he asks when they're seated in his car. It has started raining and they watch the windscreen go opaque with the little droplets, silence heavy between them while Tony waits for Bucky to talk. When he thinks nothing comes and he reaches for the ignition Bucky snorts.

“Just a truck.” Bucky wipes a shaky hand through his hair. “You'd think I'd learned my lesson,” he huffs and waves at his damaged arm and shakes his head. “Was lost in thought and walked too close to the road. A truck went past and it startled me straight into a panic attack.” Bucky looks down where his fingers are gripping his pants hard enough for the knuckles to turn white and quickly lets go. “Fucking nutjob.”

“Hey, no.” Tony reaches out awkwardly, not sure if Bucky appreciates it outside of the bedroom, then berates himself. They've been friends for a long, long time, comforting each other is what they do. He grips Bucky's shoulder and squeezes. “No bad mouthing my friend, I’ll have to kick your ass if you do,” he jokes. It feels inadequate, but making Bucky laugh has always been his strong suit, and he doesn’t know how to comfort him otherwise. It works a bit, Bucky huffs and pulls up his shoulders.

“Wouldn’t want that, with your black belt and all,” he shoots back, turning his head to Tony while leaning against the headrest.

“And I cheat,” Tony continues, letting go of Bucky’s shoulder to put a stray lock of hair behind Bucky’s ear. He does it without thinking, and he startles, the gesture is much too intimate for friends, but Bucky smiles at him and moves to buckle his belt. “And you cheat, no way am I messing with you,” he nods.

Tony inwardly sighs in relief and buckles himself too. When he puts his hand on the ignition Bucky covers it with his, pulling Tony’s attention to him. “Thanks, Tony, you’re the killer diller,” Bucky grins at him and Tony rolls his eyes fondly. “Don’t mention it.”

When he starts the car and they drive away he adds “Buchanan,” and smiles, pleased at Bucky’s laugh.

 

~~~~~

 

“Never gonna giiiive you uuup, never gonna let you dowhohown, never gonna-- AAAA,” Tony shrieks when he suddenly sees someone sitting at his kitchen table when he walks out of his bedroom with a basket full of laundry. He pulls off his headphones and glares at Bucky. “Damn you, haven’t you heard of knocking?” He puts down the basket on the table and holds his chest in hopes of calming down his heart faster.

Bucky smirks at him without remorse. “I did knock, you didn’t hear me, doll.” He holds up the key Tony has given him years ago and shakes it as a reminder. “Plus I didn’t wanna interrupt your impromptu concert,” he added with a grin.

Tony pointed a finger at him. “Evil. Pure and utter evil.” He picks up his basket again and turns to Bucky. “Come on, since you’re here you might as well come down and entertain me while I stuff this in the machine.”

“Sure. Will you sing some more?” Bucky asks with huge puppy dog eyes.

“Evil,” Tony points at him again and sets off downstairs, Bucky in tow.

One washing machine is nearly done with its cycle, so they settle to wait, leaning with their backs against the wall. “What brought you here anyway?” While they often hang out on the weekend they usually only do so in the afternoons. Tony reserves mornings for doing chores so he doesn’t have to do them on weekdays.

Bucky shrugs, folding his arms over his chest. “Bought those doughnuts you like so much on my run this morning? Thought I’d bring them over for coffee.”

Tony turns to him with a grin and punches his arm. “Why didn’t you say so? Laundry can wait! Come on, up with you. Go, go, I only had two cups of coffee yet, come on.” He waves at Bucky who shakes his head. “It’s nearly done, you’ll be sorry if you have to go again in an hour.” Tony rolls his eyes, but relents, Bucky’s right. He hates doing laundry, it’s why he made a motivational 80s medley for it. He frowns at the machine, which doesn’t make it go faster, but he feels like it does a little bit. Encouraging talk does too, but he’s not doing that in front of Bucky.

Finally the laundry is done, and he pulls the soaking clothes out and into the basket on top, quickly replacing them with his own. He hates this part where he has to handle other people’s wet clothing, even if he knows it’s clean ones. Program selected he turns to Bucky. “Done!”

He pulls a smiling Bucky by his hand upstairs, back into the kitchen. “Sit down while I make us coffee, I don’t know how you manage to corrupt my beautiful machine, but you know you’re not allowed to touch it anymore.” Bucky dutifully sits down while Tony busies himself with the coffee. He hums under his breath as he measures out the coffee. He should probably remove Rick Astley from his playlist, the song usually sticks with him until the next laundry day.

When he looks up with two cups of perfect espresso it’s to Bucky smiling fondly at him.

“What?”

“Nothing, just… it’s nothing.” Bucky holds up the bag with doughnuts and Tony hurries to the table.

“Hand over the goods, did you bring those with blueberry filling?” He takes the bag and fishes around in it. “You did! This is why you’re my favourite,” he says and takes a huge bite, spilling icing sugar all over the front of his sweater and not caring in the least. Being allowed to get dirty is the only fun part of laundry day. Bucky shoots him another one of those smiles and grabs the bag to pull out the pineapple monstrosity he favours. Horrid fruits should be forbidden as far as Tony is concerned.

“Still wanna hang out this afternoon? I think Clint invited us to watch the game,” Tony asks around a mouthfull. He doesn’t like football all that much, but he loves his friends, and there’s always someone to goof around with.

Bucky chews thoughtfully, then nods. “Sure. Might wanna change before that though, if you don’t mind swinging by my place.”

“Are you going out after?” With regret Tony stuffs the last piece in his mouth, and daps his face with one of the napkins provided. Bucky reaches out with a finger and swipes next to Tony’s mouth. “You missed a spot,” he says and licks the icing of his finger.

Tony’s breath hitches, startled by the intimate gesture while just hanging out. Usually there is some sort of signal, or they are in a different setting, when Bucky takes him up on the ‘benefits’ end of their deal. Not in broad daylight, not in the morning. Not when Tony looks like _this_. He feels like a deer caught in headlights, trapped between the desire to run and the need to keep watching.

“Gone.” Bucky pulls back his hand and picks up the coffee, sniffing it with his eyes closed. “I was thinking going over to Rhonda’s tonight, you wanna come?”

Tony stares blankly at Bucky for a second, the whole scene left him off kilter, but he pushes it to the side. He’s been feeling off for weeks now, it’s probably just him. “Yeah, sounds good, I might wanna change too,” he gestures at his faded MIT sweatshirt and torn jeans with a smirk.

Bucky makes a show of looking him up and down. “You always look good to me, doll,” he says with an exaggerated wink, and Tony rolls his eyes. “Bet you say that to all the dames.” He gets up to put their cups away. “Mario Kart until the machine is done?”

“Bring it on, sweet thing…”

 

~~~~~

 

Tony pulls frantically at Bucky’s coat. Drinking at Rhonda’s had led to a very ill advised karaoke session at the dive bar near Bucky’s place, which had led to a midnight pizza, after which the rest of the group had gone their own way and Tony had walked Bucky home. Midwalk Bucky had pulled Tony into an alley and kissed him, and Tony was too inebriated to remember why this wasn’t a good idea. Liquid logic had reasoned he should take whatever he could get instead, and he had thrown himself into the kiss like a drowning man at a raft. He has no recollection of how they managed to get home, attached at the lips as they were. Currently they're standing in Bucky’s hallway, Bucky pushing Tony against the wall, and Tony trying to get Bucky out of his stupid coat, while slinging one leg around Bucky’s waist. This is not a smart move. Gravity takes hold of him and together they topple to the floor in a heap of giggles and limbs.

“No drunk acrobo-arcaba- _acrobatics_ ,” Bucky snickers against Tony’s neck, which makes him giggle even harder.

“I wasn’t even! The thing with the leg is supposed to be hot,” Tony pouts and Bucky turns his head to look at him fondly.

“Don't need no fancy footwork for that,” he murmurs.

When Bucky kisses him it's soft and sweet, chaste almost, and Tony's heart starts beating a frantic rhythm in his chest, it's almost as if… But then Bucky's tongue is prodding his lips insistently, a hand wandering down to clumsily grab Tony's ass, and he opens up, allowing Bucky in like he always does. He can't deny he enjoys this part, enjoys it a lot.

They stumble to their feet, kissing and touching, their movements as frantic as before they fell down. They leave a trail of clothing from the hall to the bedroom and tumble into bed naked, rutting against each other. They're too drunk to do anything more that clumsily jerk each other off, but Tony doesn’t mind. He loves the feel of Bucky's large hand wrapped around their cocks, loves how his long hair tickles Tony's face as Bucky leans over him to kiss him deeply, loves the sounds he makes and his face when he tips over the edge right before Tony does.

They clean up sloppily with some tissues and Bucky collapses half on top of Tony, burying his nose in Tony's neck and with his arm slung over his chest. Tony is too tired and woozy and relaxed to think much of it, and turns his face to lean against Bucky’s hair. He falls asleep before he knows it.

 

Tony wakes to a pounding headache and a mouth that feels like it's stuffed with dirty cotton balls. Something smells horrible, and when he dares pry his eyes open he sees it's Bucky, who's still fast asleep with his face squished against the pillow, breathing in Tony's direction. He suppresses a moan as the bright morning light seems to stab his brain behind his eyelids, but he manages to keep them open, and gingerly he extracts himself from Bucky's hold. Bucky doesn't wake while he finds his clothes and drinks a glass of water. He scribbles a quick note: “ _don't ever let me near vodka again, I'll be in my coffin till the sun goes down, T_ ” and silently leaves the apartment.

 

~~~~~

 

“Oh my God, Bucky yes, I’m gonna…” Without conscious thought Tony grabs a fist full of Bucky’s hair as he tumbles over the edge, spilling himself down his throat, holding him in place while Bucky dutifully relaxes and swallows. He lets go when he’s done and pulls out, stroking Bucky’s hair in a gesture that’s much too soft, much too _intimate_ despite what they’ve been up to in the movie theatre’s restroom.

He scrambles for something witty to say, but before he can get his brain back in order Bucky wipes at his chin, winks, and leaves without a word.

 

~~~~~

 

“Happy birthday, Tony,” Bucky whispers and presses a kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth, soft and lingering, and full of promise. Tony knows it’s a lie, though, a lie that he tells himself. There’s no love here, just lust, so he smiles and pulls back and accepts his gift with his head ducked.

  
Bucky lingers after everyone goes home. To help clean up. But the looks he kept shooting Tony all night made his blood race and clean-up is the last thing Tony wants to do.

After the door closes behind Rhodey’s back Tony pounces on Bucky, crowding him against the wall and kissing him violently, pushing himself against his chest and tangling his fingers in Bucky's long hair. He so desperately wants this to be real, for this to mean more than just a good time with a familiar body.

When he closes his eyes he can almost pretend that it does, when Bucky folds his arms around him and whispers “oh, sweet thing,” in the air between them, slowing Tony's frantic kiss down to something sweeter, more sensual.

It truly does feel real when Bucky looks him in the eye as he thrusts in, expression unreadable as he bends down to nuzzle Tony's cheek, keeping their bodies close when he sets a rhythm.

But it's not. Two orgasms and a flimsy excuse later Tony is alone again, refusing to cry.

  
~~~~~

 

He's just about ready to call it a night, the incessant base reverberating inside skull making him feel on edge and restless, when Bucky appears next to him.

“My place or yours, sweet thing?”

 

~~~~~

 

Tony knows who it is when his phone chimes a message just before his lunch break, and snorts despite himself at Bucky's message, consisting of a baguette, a peach and question mark.

 

~~~~~

 

“Hey doll…”

 

~~~~~

 

With a vicious tug the bolt shoots free and he falls back onto his ass, cutting his arm on the fender’s sharp edge.

“Fuck!” He exclaims, grabbing for anything to hold against the wound, but finding nothing but a dirty rag.

Tears obscure his vision as he stumbles to his feet, and he angrily wipes at his face with his good arm.

It seems that the longer Bucky and he do this ‘friends with benefits’ thing, the more it becomes about the benefits, and the less friendship remains. He misses just hanging out, goofing around with a ball in the park, watching a movie, sitting across from each other while reading. Now whenever Bucky wants to hang out Tony is on high alert, waiting for Bucky’s hand on his shoulder, his breath against the back of his neck; for Bucky to slot behind him when Tony’s fetching something, rubbing his hard on against Tony’s ass. Waiting for him to whisper “Tony, can we?”

It’s driving him insane.

Not only has he lost his friend, but also the chances of him ever getting over this stupid crush are close to zero, when every touch feels so _good_ , like a little window to how things could be, and when the smell of Bucky is like that of home.

He feels used, and angry, so, so angry at himself for being too weak to put a stop to it, and now he hurt himself while venting it at the stupid car and he’s bleeding on the stupid floor and why isn't there a clean rag anywhere.

“Hey, come here…” Bucky's voice is gentle and the hand on his arm is warm as he presses a towel against the wound and Tony wants to scream in frustration. It's too much and he snaps, pushing Bucky away against his chest, unmindful of the mess he makes of his shirt because Bucky always refuses to wear an overall when they're tinkering.

“Get away from me,” he growls, “stop acting like you care.”

He barely registers the look of hurt on Bucky's face as he turns away, cradling his bleeding arm against his body.

“Tony…”

“No! It's enough! I can't take it anymore. I'm not your fancy blow up doll.” He stomps over to the sink to rinse the wound under the tap, hissing when the cold water stings like hell.

“Tony, what?”

He only looks around because Bucky sounds lost, small like he did last year when they started on this debacle, and there's no universe where Tony can just ignore him. Bucky's standing where he left him, next to the car, the towel still in his hand, shoulders slumped and looking hurt. It only fuels Tony's anger, because where the hell does he get the nerve to act all hurt.

“What?” He snaps back, cursing when his sleeve gets wet under the spray. “We both know you only hang out with me to get your rocks off anymore, and I'm sick of it.” He turns off the tap and wraps a towel around his arm. When he looks up he sees Bucky hasn't moved, his face stony.

“Didn't hear no complaints,” he says quietly, and the way he doesn't deny Tony's accusation, no, throws it back even, cranks Tony's anger up until he's nearly shaking with it.

“Well, I'm complaining now! It's called _friends_ with benefits, _friends_. When was the last time we hung out without you putting your hand in my pants, huh?”

Bucky's shoulders seem to slump even further as he looks down to fiddle with the towel. “Thought you liked it,” he says quietly, hiding behind his hair, and Tony recognizes the signs. He's about to leave and hide, like he did when that asshole dumped him, and Tony feels like pulling his own hair in despair.

“Of course I like it!” he exclaims, “you're hot as fuck.” He waves his arms at Bucky, his wound forgotten, and barely catches the towel in time before it falls. It jostles the wound and it's enough to make tears spring in eyes again. “Of course I like it, I like it too much, I like it so much it _hurts_ , Bucky, you don't know how much it hurts.”  He carefully rewraps the towel, pulling it as tight as he can.

“Why?”

Tony is taken aback. Why? Why? Bucky doesn’t sound confrontational, not even overly curious. He sounds hurt, just like Tony feels, and it makes him stop up short, watching Bucky intently when he speaks.

“I miss my friend. I miss just hanging out and doing random stuff together.” It was a half truth. He wasn't sure he could even go back to being just friends now that he knew how it felt like to touch Bucky, to lie naked side by side, to have witnessed his face in rapture.

“You want to be just friends again?”

It's the way Bucky carefully refuses to meet Tony's eye, the slight nod he gives as he looks at the floor, the tension in his hand, his knuckles white where he grips the towel, that make Tony take a step forward.

“I want it to be real,” Tony whispers, clutching his arm tighter against his chest, “and knowing that I'll never have that hurts more than I can bear anymore.”

Bucky's head shoots up and he stares at Tony in shock. “You do?”

Tony shrugs miserably and looks away. He's sure he just ruined whatever was left between them.

Slowly Bucky steps forward, like he's unsure what he's even doing. Tony is afraid of what comes next. The “we had a nice time but you're too clingy” part. What he doesn't expect is for Bucky to cup his jaw and bend down to press a soft kiss on his lips. “Me too,” he whispers, a little upturn to his lips.

Tony has trouble processing what is happening, he might've had countless of daydreams about how this talk could go, but never had he thought it might actually happen.

“Pinch me,” he mutters. It makes Bucky smile that gorgeous smile of his, the one Tony is powerless to not return.

Bucky leans down to kiss him again, just as soft and chaste, but lingers to nuzzle Tony's cheek, and draws Tony into a careful hug, like he's afraid he might break.

“I want everything, Tony,” Bucky confesses, and Tony wants to hug him back, but he can't with his arm, which smarts and he's sure it needs stitches, and he needs to wrap it more securely to be able to drive but like hell will he interrupt this now. “I want to hang out with you,” Bucky continues, “and do daily chores with you, cuddle you, and give you morning blow jobs and afternoon blowjob and evening blow jobs…”

When Tony giggles he feels Bucky smile against the skin of his neck. Bucky straightens to look at him, brushing away the hair from his face, a touch so gentle it makes his heart try to expand three sizes in his chest.

“I hated going away, after, I never wanted to leave, but you seemed so uncomfortable, sometimes unable to even look at me…” Bucky looks pained, his face contorted in a way Tony has tried so hard to prevent. “like you were ashamed…”

“Buck, no…” Tony lets go of his hurt arm to touch Bucky's face, receiving a sad smile.

“I couldn't stay away though,” Bucky continues, taking Tony's hand and placing a kiss on the inside, “been in love with you since as long as I can remember.”

Tony's breath hitches, and he smiles involuntarily, letting his head fall against Bucky's shoulder. “We're both idiots.” He feels Bucky stiffen underneath him and he straightens again. “Idiots in love,” he adds, and Bucky's answering smile makes all the heartache of the past year worth it.

 

After the E.R. and a frozen pizza at Tony's tiny kitchen table they tumble into bed. A small part of Tony keeps expecting Bucky to tear at his clothes or to cup him through his trousers, but he never does. He strokes Tony's face and runs his hand through Tony's hair until he's relaxed and sleepy and can't do much more than smile dopily at his lover? Boyfriend?

They trade lazy kisses until they fall asleep, and kiss some more when they wake up to brush their teeth and lie down again. It's perfect and Tony is not convinced he's not dreaming, until he wakes up in the morning to Bucky drooling on his chest and it's gross but sweet enough to make him realize it's really his to keep.

Bucky cracks open an eye when Tony's fingers get stuck in the tangles of his long hair, and he smiles this radiant sleep lazy smile. “Mornin’, doll.”

“Morning,” Tony smiles back.

“Buchanan.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://bill-longbow.tumblr.com) or join us on the [ Stuckony discord server ](https://discord.gg/jtXcc3n) for all things Tony, Bucky and Steve!


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